Better off dead
by Poptasticdanceability
Summary: A quick missing scene after Dead Man Walking. Jack needs reassurance, but asks for it in the wrong way. All Hail the BBC.


Jack had been staring intently into the wood grain for several minutes when Ianto cleared his throat to make his presence known. Why clearing one's throat had become an acceptable way of announcing oneself, Ianto couldn't fathom.

Straightening up, Jack looked up and smiled weakly. "Still here?" He asked without a hint of surprise. Granted, it was rather a redundant question.

"Just getting a few things done." Ianto smiled back, just enough to be warm. Seeming happy right now would be- inappropriate. " Y'know me. Can't leave a job half done."

" Hmm." Was all Jack could muster to reply with. He stood and lent backwards against his desk. "When did Owen go?" he asked, looking downward.

It had been a very strange twenty four hours. Granted, saying that was like describing a weevil as moody. Owen had died. And then un-died. And was now stuck in a state of un-deadness having gone bare-knuckle with the grim reaper. Yes. Today had been strange. Emotional, stressful, horrifying and quite frankly needed to be over with for the general sanity of everyone.

Ianto looked at his watch, before stepping back next to Jack. "About half an hour ago." He looked over, Jack didn't make any sign that he'd heard. "He seemed O.K." Ianto added after a moment.

"And Martha?" Jack asked without shifting an inch. It all seemed to be weighing very heavily on him right now.

"Took her back to the hotel." Ianto continued. "She's going take it out on us in room service- I think she's entitled." He managed to smile at the last sentence.

For a moment the corners of Jack's mouth managed to up-turn. He looked at Ianto for the first time in the conversation, registering that he must've been exhausted. "But can we afford it?" He chuckled, before that inappropriate feeling of having laughed at a funeral passed over him and he stopped. "How's everything else?"

"Erm... OK. About as Status Quo as we get." He replied stifling a yawn." No more sightings of death, weevils seem to have returned to the sewers. Rift activity relatively normal."

"Relatively?"

"Well..." He considered, wondering if he should have gone when everyone else did. If Jack was going to try and bury himself in work then quite frankly, Ianto didn't have the energy or the inclination to join him. "Give or take a few spikes. Oh, and a giant maggot carcass in Llanfairfach."

"Recent?" Jack asked, somewhere between bemused and alarmed.

"About forty years dead..." Ianto continued to quickly destroy any notions of driving into the deepest darkest valley towns in the middle of the night. "More of a fossil."

"Good."

"UNIT-," he drifted off after the first word as his brain froze for a moment with tiredness. Jack didn't seem to notice, "- would like to know how long we're keeping Martha, oh and Bridget Spears called. Frobisher would like to talk to you at your earliest convenience. I told her-"

"I've fucked this up, haven't I?"

He stared downward, then sighing drew himself up to look at Ianto again.

Now, this was not a question that Ianto could give a straight answer to. Saying yes would be honest but devastating, No would be a lie and an obvious one at that. And not replying- silence would only verify Jack's fears.

"You..." Ianto started and dropped off, desperately trying to find eloquence in his tired mind."You did what you thought was right."

Shaking his head, Jack spoke again, a glimpse of anger audible in his words. "Tell that to Owen. He was better off dead."

But the next words cut at Ianto. It was one of those dire moments where he couldn't fathom why he bothered with any of this.

"Why didn't you try and stop me?"

It was the tone of his voice. The resentment that Ianto had failed to save him from himself. That desperate need to blame someone else.

A hundred replies flew through Ianto's head, screaming angry in his head at first until he conjures up the most civil thing he can say under the circumstances.

"Good night, Jack."

He turned, opened the door to the office and slipped out, he almost hesitated for a moment as Jack called his name before he shut the door. He heard Jack swear as well.

He knew what Jack would do next. Sit back down at the desk, rest his head on his hand. Ianto pulled his coat off the stand and made his way up the stairs hastily, knowing that if he turned around he may very well change his mind.

What would Jack do without him there? Probably start drinking considering the state he was in now. Rattle around the hub for a bit, maybe go Weevil hunting on foot.

Why should he feel anything? All he ever did was put into this place- he did everything that was expected of him and more. He came in well or sick, at all hours and took care of all the little banalities, all the invisible things that people just assumed occurred on their own to make this place function. He put up with Jack's disappearances, his secretiveness about his past that was littered with tantalising hints dropped and then forgotten. He put up with his flirting at anything not clinically dead, the cancelled dates, the fact that they could end up doing this for five years and never assemble anything meaningful. And five years was a lifetime where Torchwood was concerned.

But he did. As he trudged up the stairs towards the tourist information bureau and the real world the rage seemed to disperse, and a pang of guilt ran through him. So Jack disappeared? He always came back though. And it was natural Jack didn't want to talk about the past too often, that involved thinking about all the people he'd lost through time, and how many of those must there have been. The flirting- Ok. He couldn't excuse that but Jack was apologetic when they had to cancel... and it was always for a bloody good reason.

And of course, this would never become anything meaningful if Ianto walked out every time Jack said something stupid, although a small dark corner of his mind took some pleasure in Jack finding out infuriating and disconcerting it was to have someone walk out on you. But all in all Ianto was loathed to behave like this. It defied his sense of purpose. He was there to help Jack, and walking out, no matter how justified was counter to that. He wouldn't sleep if he went home, and Jack would be in a much worse state tomorrow. Then they'd have hours of tension where they wouldn't look at each other, followed by communication in only vague pleasantries until one of them finally announced to the other that this state of affairs was ridiculous. And quite frankly there was enough stress flying around with everything else going on that didn't need them at odds. Also, Ianto knew it would have to be him with the olive branch. And he'd do it for the good of everyone no matter how angry he still really was.

He stood in the Information bureau, paced around a couple of times. Finally with a resigned sigh he took his coat back off, reached behind the desk and opened the door.

This time he took the lift. At the bottom he stormed through the circular door as it rotated, crossed to the sofa and threw his coat down. He looked over to the office. Jack looked up through the window- despite all the shit and turmoil, he nearly lit up at seeing Ianto walk back in.

Keeping his pace, Ianto crossed to the office. Opened the door, entered and announced; "Yes. You have fucked this up."

Looking him up and down, Jack considered. He wasn't slouching around trying not to be noticed. That had been quite an entrance. Jack looked down and stood up, timidly taking a step towards him. "I know."

Stepping forward, both men lent with their backs to the desk, back where they were before Jack had managed to say anything stupid. They both stared at their feet and shuffled slightly, before Jack chuckled at how daft this would look to anyone watching.

Ianto smiled as well before they both looked at each other. "So," he started, "Can we go to bed?"


End file.
